


These Arms of Mine

by strawberrymojo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Absolute fluff, Dirty Dancing References, Harry pouts a lot, Louis threatens to cook, M/M, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 17:06:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrymojo/pseuds/strawberrymojo
Summary: Harry has never seen Dirty Dancing. Louis wants to watch it with him. Things don't quite go to plan. Harry pouts, Louis thinks up a better plan.





	These Arms of Mine

“What do you mean you’ve never seen it?! How is that possible?!” Louis Tomlinson was glad he lived alone because he knew he was squawking, but honestly – how had Harry, of all people, never seen Dirty Dancing?

“I don’t know, I just haven’t.” Louis could hear the defensive tone in Harry’s voice, even over the wind blowing loudly outside.

“I’m just surprised, is all. I thought it’d be right up your alley.” Louis thought quickly as he peered out the kitchen window. The sky was grey, grey, grey, and heavy with rain, though it hadn’t spilled over just yet. The wind shook window frames and doorways, and leaves got caught in swirling gusts. Perfect weather for a night in. “Right,” he said. He could tell the boys he was still hungover and didn’t feel up to going out again. That could work. “Come over tonight.”

“I thought you were going out with Olli and the boys tonight?” Harry was still sounding sulky, and Louis rolled his eyes.

“I was, but I can do that another night.” Louis absent-mindedly fidgeted with the picture he had stuck up on the wall near the window of him and Harry, grinning like buffoons at the camera. “Please Haz, come over. We’ll grab some dinner. Maybe – maybe! – I’ll even cook.” Both he and Harry knew that wouldn’t happen, but it was nice to offer at least. “And then I’ll introduce you to your new favourite movie.” He gently touched Harry’s face in the photo, and smiled to himself.

Harry hmmmed over the phone line. “What’s in it for you, Lou?”

Louis paused on his way to the fridge, confused. “What on earth are you talking about, Harold?”

“I mean, _Lewis_ , that normally I have to bribe you with promises to watch the footie with you so you’ll watch a movie with me.”

“Yes Harold but that’s because you have shit taste in movies, and somebody has to educate you about the important things in the world.” He opened the fridge door to see how dire things were.

“Like footie?”

“Exactly,” Louis smirked, looking at shelf after shelf of…pretty much nothing. When had he last done a shop? “Look, I just think you’ll like it. Maybe I feel like doing something nice for you. Just this once, obviously.” Harry chuckled on the other end of the phone. “And the music’s brilliant. Come over, please?” With his free hand, he grabbed a notepad and a pen. He definitely needed to get some groceries before tonight.

Harry sighed as if he was put out, but Louis knew him well enough to know he’d be thrilled with the idea. “Fiiiiine.  But if I love this movie and want to watch it a hundred times, you know you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but if he was honest with himself, deep down he was excited too. Watching Dirty Dancing was definitely not his idea of a good night, but watching Harry fall in love with the movie, all soft sighs and happy smiles (preferably in Louis’s arms), most certainly was.

***

By the time Harry arrived, the storm had too, and in the short walk up the drive the rain had soaked Harry’s thin jacket through. They stood in the entrance, Harry dripping all over the tiled floor, and kissed for a good few minutes in between smiles and hugs and giggles, before Louis finally allowed him to remove his shoes and jacket. They hadn’t seen each other in days, and neither of them liked that.

Despite Louis’s efforts to provide a fridge full of food, they decided to order Mexican - though Harry refused to get fajitas, claiming that all other fajitas were inferior to his. He was probably right, Louis mused. Harry did make excellent fajitas. Instead, they feasted on enchiladas and fancy nachos, sitting as close to each other as they could at the breakfast bar – legs pressed against each other from foot to thigh, heads resting on shoulders whenever they could, fingers intertwined when it didn’t interfere with the food-to-mouth process.

As a compromise since he hadn’t actually cooked dinner, Louis prepared disgustingly decadent ice cream sundaes for dessert, with loads of chocolate sauce and a mix of five other toppings between the two of them.

They tucked themselves into each other on the couch to watch the film, curled up and cozy with not quite enough elbow room to eat their sundaes without bumping arms or spoons or dishes. It was messy but neither of them wanted to move. 

Louis found himself enjoying the movie for perhaps the first time ever. As he’d suspected, it was actually Harry’s reaction to the movie he was enjoying the most. He hummed or sang along to most of the songs, hips moving against Louis’s body to the faster ones. Every now and again he’d look over at Louis with wide, bright, crinkly-smiley eyes and Louis crinkled right back at him.

Their ice-cream sundaes were well and truly finished when they reached the part of the movie Louis was most familiar with.

As the gentle lapping of the lake filled the screen, and Otis Redding began singing quietly in the background, Louis glanced down at Harry, whose head was in his lap. _“These arms of mine, they are yearning, yearning from wanting you,”_ Otis sang. This was _the_ scene of the film. It was the only one he’d liked the first time he’d seen the movie. He’d thought it was quite beautiful, actually, that first time. But it was also the one that his sisters had watched over and over, to the point that it normally made him roll his eyes and run away.

But now?

This was the part he’d wanted Harry to see. This was the part he wanted to share with Harry, to watch him see it for the first time. If even Louis had found it quite romantic and even…sensual? – he rolled his eyes at his own softness – then he knew Harry would be a puddle on the floor by the end of it.

Sure enough, Harry was completely engrossed as Baby walked into Johnny’s room. Louis’s hand, which had been nesting in Harry’s curls, began gently scritching at his scalp as the music continued, and Harry sighed happily, probably without even realising it. Louis glanced back at the screen for a few seconds, then realised he’d much rather watch Harry. He looked…innocent and beautiful. His eyes, watching the scene so intently, were soft and brilliant, his lashes fluttering in tiny, lazy blinks every now and again. His skin glowed in the golden light coming from the television, and Louis’s other hand, resting on Harry’s hip, almost moved to stroke his face, to feel its softness and roughness. But he didn’t want to take away from the moment for Harry, so he left it where it was. Harry’s mouth was parted ever so slightly, corners turned up just a little, as if in a subconscious smile. Louis’s heart filled with an overwhelming joy, and he couldn’t stop himself from gently squeezing Harry’s hip. Harry glanced up at him briefly, eyes half-lidded and smile lovingly dopey, before he turned his face back to the screen.

Baby was making her impassioned speech, telling Johnny how strong and brave he was, and how she was scared she’d never again feel the way she felt with him. Louis heard the record player in the film click over and knew what was coming next.

Cry To Me started playing, and Baby began her perfect, innocent seduction, asking Johnny to “Dance with me?” Louis could feel Harry’s breathing quicken, and he smiled in anticipation.

Without any warning, the lights in the room flickered – once, twice – and then went out, taking the television along with them.

Harry started in surprise in Louis’s lap and let out an indignant, “Heeeeyyyy!” They were both silent for a few seconds, waiting for the power to come back on. When it didn’t, Harry sat up abruptly and exclaimed, “Lou, fix it!”

Louis sat up next to him and rubbed Harry’s back in the dark, laughing gently. “I’m not sure I can fix this one Haz, I think the storm caused it.”

Harry sounded close to tears when he said, “But Lou, I need to know what happens next!”

Louis kissed his shoulder and the side of his neck, trying to soothe. “Babe, the power will come back on at some point, I’m sure. We’ll finish watching it then.”

Harry turned to him and Louis could tell he was genuinely upset. “But Louuuuu, it was the best part!”

Louis laughed again. Yep, he knew his boy well. “Let me go get some candles, and we’ll wait it out together.” He shook the torch on his phone on, before turning back to Harry with a cheekily innocent smile. “I’m sure we can think of something to do while we wait?”

Harry was still pouting exaggeratedly, but Louis saw a tiny smile threaten to break.

He felt warm and content as he went into the kitchen and opened the bottom drawer. He sent out a thought of gratitude to his mum, who had made sure he had candles – and a place to put them – when he’d first moved into his own flat. “You never know when the power’s going to go out, but you’ll never think to buy them,” she’d said, putting them in the drawer, where they'd safely stayed since then.

He walked back into the living room with his stash, to find Harry fiddling with his phone. As Louis got closer, he heard – and then saw – Dirty Dancing playing on the tiny screen. Louis dropped the candles on the table and raced over, grabbing the phone out of his hand. “No way, Haz,” he said firmly. “You’re not watching the best part of the film on that shitty little screen.”

“But Lou–”

Louis put his free hand over Harry’s mouth. “You’ll thank me later, baby, when you get to watch it properly. I promise.” He stuck Harry’s phone in his own pocket, and then set about lighting the candles and arranging them around the room. All the while, Harry pouted.

When Louis had finished, and the room was filled with pockets of soft, gentle light, he sat back down next to Harry, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Nobody has ever died from not seeing the end of Dirty Dancing immediately, Haz.”

Harry sighed. “Can you at least _tell_ me what happens? Do they dance? Is it beautiful?” he asked, hope and candlelight dancing in his eyes.

Louis got lost, just for a moment, in those eyes that he loved. And in that moment, lost in dancing eyes, he had an idea. One of the better ideas he’d had in his life, he thought to himself.

He jumped up and grabbed his speaker from the mantel (thank goodness he’d charged it that morning), before quickly searching for the song he wanted on his phone.

Pressing play, he put his phone down and held his hand out to Harry, smiling softly. “How about… I show you what happens?”

As Solomon Burke’s voice came through the speaker, Harry slowly smiled back up at Louis, almost shyly. He took the hand Louis was offering, and stood too.

“Dance with me?” Louis asked, taking a step closer to Harry. Harry nodded, still holding Louis’s hand, and Louis began his very own perfect – perhaps less innocent – seduction – one that was full of love, for this boy that had somehow, for some reason, chosen him.

***

By the time the power came back on two hours later, the two were sound asleep on the couch, curled around each other, over each other, in each other. Neither of them noticed.

If anyone ever asked, Louis still didn’t like Dirty Dancing. But if he willingly and happily watched it at least a hundred more times, any time Harry wanted? Well, nobody would know that but Harry.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Otis Redding song in Dirty Dancing. This is my favourite scene in this movie, and it seemed the perfect setting for some Harry & Louis fluff. (It's also my second fic with the two of them dancing... dance-kink, anyone?)


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